


knowing my fate is to be with you

by PinkGerberDaisies



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: ABBA, F/M, Fluff, Nostalgia, Songfic - kind of?, comeback era, secret santa fic exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 06:18:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17177501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkGerberDaisies/pseuds/PinkGerberDaisies
Summary: Tessa and Scott are invited back to Kitchener-Waterloo to teach a skating class at the beginning of their comeback journey. Will the memory of their shared past there help them shape their future?(Written for a Secret Santa fic exchange, the author will be revealed soon)





	knowing my fate is to be with you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bucketofrice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bucketofrice/gifts).



> Written for bucketofrice, who asked for something set during the comeback era.   
> K - I hope this little story helps brighten up your holidays. Sending you all my love.

Tessa tugs her well-worn skate onto her left foot as she soaks in the old familiar sights and sounds of the rink, the chill from the nearby ice seeping in through her lightweight jacket. It’s been ages since they’ve been back to the rink in Kitchener-Waterloo where they’d spent so many of their formative years, and it’s funny how much smaller it all seems now than when she was a kid.

Back then this place, with its four Olympic size rinks, an athletic center, and studio space, had seemed huge and intimidating. If it hadn’t been for the kindness of Paul and Suzanne (especially Suzanne, who had been like a big sister to her), the endless support of her mother, and the reliability of Scott's hand in hers, Tessa’s certain she would have stuck with the ballet school instead.

She and Scott had been invited to teach a class to the kids at the rink who are just starting their ice dance journey, and neither of them felt like they could refuse the request. After all, they do owe their careers to the techniques and skills that they learned here, and it’s the holiday season. What could be better than giving back to their community – the place where they really began to flourish as a team – at Christmastime?

Tessa can still vividly remember those early mornings. Driving 100 kilometers first only once a week, but then two or three times, until eventually she and Scott moved there during the summers to fully commit to training with Paul and Suzanne. Meeting at the Bethel Church on Ilderton Road at 5 a.m. and falling asleep slumped against each other in the back of Alma or Kate’s car – whoever’s turn it was to drive that day. The Marvin the Martian pillow Scott had bought her that was nearly as big as she was back then and that she’d kept for years, long after it had faded and become tattered. It’s still probably stored safely away in one of her many keepsake boxes in her basement.

It's a funny feeling, being back at this place as they start their journey together again.

“Good morning, T,” Scott greets her cheerfully just as she’s finishing lacing up her right boot. Her skates are starting to look pretty worse for wear and she’ll be needing new ones for their return to competition, but she’s holding onto these for as long as she can. There's something safe about them, these skates that have carried her through two of the roughest years of her life, and new skates would mean something significant. 

Letting go. Moving on. A new  _c_ _ommitment_. 

She's not sure she's quite ready to take that last step. 

Scott holds out a steaming cup of something that she hopes is sweet and sugary, sticking it right in her face to get her attention, “Here. I got you some hot chocolate. Just like old times.”

“Thank you,” She says, taking the cup with both hands and letting it warm her fingers before taking a tentative sip – making sure it isn’t hot enough to burn her tongue. She’s about to give a master class to a bunch of wide-eyed, eager-eared, pre-teens, the last thing she needs is a numb tongue impairing her speech.  

Scott sits down next to her and starts putting on his own skates, his fingers flying through the motions, the two of them enjoying the peace and quiet before the students and their families start to arrive. It’s bound to be a busy morning, given the fact that they’re so close to home and more likely to attract the interest of locals than they would somewhere like Moose Jaw or Dawson Creek, and Tessa takes a deep breath to steady herself.

"Can you believe it’s been fourteen years since we moved here?” Scott nudges her shoulder with his and Tessa returns his soft smile with one of her own. Apparently he’s feeling just as nostalgic as she is this morning. "Time flies when you're having fun, eh?" 

The past two years have been rough, to put it lightly, with both of them trying to come to terms with their retirement in their own ways. Her with school and endorsements and traveling and him with... other things. Blonde things that still hurt even though they're no longer in the picture. And although they’ve still seen each other frequently since Sochi thanks to their skating commitments, their interactions are tentative. Unsure.

They’ve been trying to find their footing again since China and their mutual decision to return to competitive skating - to fight for another chance at the Olympics – and in many ways Tessa feels like they’re here in this arena again. Two kids trying to learn how to be partners.

Only this time with an entire truck full of baggage.

“Sometimes it still feels like it was only yesterday,” She replies, bumping her shoulder against his in return, and Scott smiles a little wider, “We should visit the Strachans while we’re in town. It’s been a long time.”

“You just want to watch me squirm while they grill me. They always liked you better,” Scott jokes, grabbing her hand and stealing a sip of the cocoa, despite her protestations and attempt to keep it out of his reach. 

“That’s not true,” Scott fixes her with a pointed look and Tessa giggles and amends her statement, “Okay, maybe a little, but that’s only because I wasn’t off getting into trouble with Poje every other weekend.”

“He was my only friend here. What else were we supposed to do besides cause trouble?” Scott smirks, as if it was a given that he and Andrew would be causing mischief whenever they weren’t in the rink, and Tessa supposes he has a point. Knowing the nature of the two men in question, and teenage boys in general, it really isn’t shocking that they misbehaved. She’s just grateful that once he arrived at the rink each morning he was ready to put in the work.

“I don’t know. Homework, maybe?” She jokes, and Scott groans and rolls his eyes.

“It’s not like I needed those good grades you helped me get, anyway. Dissecting frogs isn’t exactly something you need to be an expert at when you’re in the middle of a twizzle sequence.”

“Ooh, that’s great advice. Make sure you tell that to the kids today,” She teases, standing up and testing her skates to make sure that she hasn’t done up the laces too tight. She’s been trying to compensate for their age, but it’s only a Band-Aid until she can finally find the time to get her new skates heat-molded and the blades attached.

“Because that will go over well. ‘Remember, school doesn’t matter kids, only skating,’” He laughs and she joins in until she catches him frowning at her skates. “When are you going to get those replaced?”  

“Soon. I have new skates, they’re just not ready yet,” She explains, satisfied with the way they feel. 

"What are you waiting for? A broken ankle? That’s not exactly the best way to walk into Gadbois in a couple months.”

“I’ll get it done. I just haven’t had the time.”

She's not sure why he's being so adamant about this. She's always been a bit sentimental about her skates, he knows that. He'd call her superstitious (has many times, in fact), but she likes to wear skates until they're falling apart. There's probably a metaphor in there somewhere - something about Tessa's inability to throw away something just because it's broken that her therapist would love to dissect like Scott's frogs - but she brushes the thought away.

“Make time.”

“Maybe you should just do it for me," She sasses, sticking out her tongue and laughing when Scott tickles her side in retaliation, making her squirm and jump out of reach. 

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that," He sounds a little bashful, an unusual sound for Scott, and Tessa steps in closer, "My uncle Paul and I have decided to open that skate shop after all.”

“Really?” She clasps her hands together in excitement, pulling him up to his feet so that she can hug him, “That’s great, Scott! I’m so proud of you.”

The hug, and her enthusiasm, seems to take him by surprise, but after a second he returns it. His arms reaching around her slowly until she's fully embraced by him, his face burrowing into her shoulder as they breathe each other in. 

It didn’t use to be like this - all nervous and careful. Hugs used to be as natural as breathing for them. In fact, they could almost be considered essential to breathing when done before a competition – but that’s another thing they’re having to relearn.

“When it’s done you’ll get our very first pair of skates, custom made by yours truly. I promise." 

His breath tickles her ear and Tessa finds herself whispering, low and throaty, when she replies, “I’d be honored.”

Scott pulls back, too soon for her liking and yet probably not soon enough, and grins at her, “Don’t be. My motivations are purely selfish. I can’t be seen skating with a partner who has skates like  _that_.”   

"Excuse you, my skates have  _history_. They tell a story,” She protests, her hands flying to her hips like a teacher giving a lecture, and Scott rolls his eyes. 

“The only story they’re telling is how to get injured. Maybe we can use that today with the kids. Exhibit A: Bad Equipment.”

“And yet you’re the one who fell in our Lindt master class front of all those kids. Exhibit A: Bad Technique." 

“That was the toe pick’s fault!” Scott shoots back, affronted at her insult, and Tessa giggles.

“The toe pick attached to the boot of your  _perfect_ skates. The great Scott Moir, brought down by a toe pick. What a legacy.”  

“That’s a low blow, Virtch. Besides, it’s  _Virtue_   _and_   _Moir_ , so what happens to me, happens to you by extension. If I fall, you fall,” He gives her a lopsided grin, poking her repeatedly in the arm until she swats his hand away. 

“I don’t think that’s how that works.”

"Oh no? I’m pretty sure that’s what you signed up for when you agreed to have your name attached to mine forever. Or are you planning on leaving me behind if I fall?”

“I didn't ditch you after our first competition and I don't plan on it now. We’re a team on the ice, I wouldn’t do that.”

It comes out sounding more adamant and serious than she'd intended, and Scott's teasing smile fades into something softer as he bumps his knee against hers. 

"I know. It’s good to be a team again, eh?”

“We’ve always been a team.”

“You know what I mean.”

She does know. There’s nothing that can compete with feeling united in a common goal. Taking the ice every morning with  _purpose_. Not just skating to make money for Stars on Ice or whatever other company has booked them to put on a show for a couple hours, but actually working hard. Sweating and laboring and dreaming up programs that they love and speak to them and the stories they want to tell. Doing it all  _together._

What is it Scott likes to say? "It wasn't finding skating, it was finding Tessa"? She feels exactly the same way about him. 

“Come on, let’s warm up,” She says instead of giving him a real reply, turning around to step onto the ice and trusting that he’ll follow.

He does, of course he does, skating up beside her and pushing off in even strokes with hers so that they can stay level with each other as they circle the rink. Enjoying the rare opportunity to be on the ice by themselves. 

“Can you hold your cocoa with your other hand?” Scott says on their second rotation and Tessa tilts her head as she looks over at him. 

“Why?”

“Because then I can make it seem totally natural when I let my hand bump against yours and take it in mine.”

Tessa laughs and does as he asks, hiding her disappointment when he cups her hand in his in a standard dance hold, “Or you could have just said you wanted to hold my hand.”

“It’s less romantic that way,” He says simply.

She’s not sure what to make of that.

Skaters and their parents start to filter into the arena and Scott guides her over to the boards to greet them, shaking hands with everyone and posing for a few photos, while Tessa tries to keep up – employing every media and PR lesson she’s learned over the years to interact with these people. Many of whom are genuine, but a few who are probably only there for the gossip.

They’ve done this before for Lindt and Tessa really enjoys working with the kids, but Scott’s always been better at these meet and greet type things than she is with the adults. No matter how much time she spends in the public eye – interviews, spotlights, shows – she still feels awkward and clumsy next to his charisma and charm.

“Alright everybody,” Scott cups his hands around his mouth and shouts, catching everyone’s attention and forcing the hum of twenty different conversations to come to a stop, “Let’s get the kids lined up by the wall over there on the ice and we’ll get started.”

He drops his hands and leans in to whisper in her ear, "You wanna do the honors, T?”

“Sure,” She nods and turns to face the kids, forcing herself to ignore the parents in the stands with their cameras and their speculation, “I’m Tessa Virtue.”

“And I’m Scott Moir,” Scott chimes in like he has a million times before, doing a jaunty little wave that earns a few laughs.

“And we want to welcome you today to this beginner’s ice dance class. As you know, Scott and I have been skating together a long time and many of our early years were spent right here on this very ice.”

“Well, probably not this exact ice, eh? But this arena,” Scott winks and the kids giggle when Tessa softly punches his arm.

“We are so grateful for the opportunity to be back here and work with you for a little bit today. We hope while we're here we can pass along some of the lessons we've learned onto you.”

“Alright guys! We’re going to start by just going around the rink a few times and getting our skates wet. Follow me and Tess. Let’s go!”

As the class goes on, she and Scott fall into their regular rhythm, working together as seamlessly as they ever have.

They go over swizzles and crossovers and Scott lectures them about technical elements and edges while Tessa discusses musicality and choreography. And they both try to interweave advice about goal setting, resilience, and how to handle it when things don’t go your way in between the skating. Hopefully skills and knowledge that they can take beyond the realm of sport.

At the end of the actual instruction part of the class they like to do a short segment of a recent program to show some of their favorite lifts, and as Rihanna’s voice starts singing Stay it brings those feelings from Sochi rushing back.

Tessa must have heard the lyrics a thousand times by now, but it doesn’t lessen how much it hurts. How painful it was to say goodbye to skating and, by extension, Scott. The only salve is that now they’re together again. They crossed the walls between them by crossing a wall together in China and came out stronger on the other side.

“You guys did really great today. You should all be very proud of yourselves,” Scott goes around high-fiving each of the kids who all bump into each other as they enthusiastically wait for their turn. 

“Scott and I are so grateful we got to come work with you today. You inspire us.”

“Do you have any questions before we finish up?" Scott asks once he's by her side again, pointing at the young girl whose hand had shot into the air, "Yes, Kristina?”

“What’s it like skating under so much pressure? I always get really nervous before my shows.”

"Good question," Tessa glances at Scott and they wordlessly agree that she'll answer the question, "It can definitely be tough. Scott and I have always felt very grateful that we’ve had each other and can rely on each other. No matter what we’re together on the ice – we win and lose together – and that helps keep us calm. It's important to have a good support system who you can rely on to be there whether you win or lose.”

“And we balance each other out,” Scott adds, “I like to be chased and Tessa likes to do the chasing, so no matter what position we find ourselves in we keep each other motivated to fight and work hard. You have to find what motivates you and keep that at the front of your mind.”

“How young were you when you started skating?” The youngest voice asks, a boy who can’t be older than eight years old, but still looks six and reminds Tessa a little of Scott.

“We met when Tess was six, but didn’t start skating together until she was seven and I was nine. I think she had a bit of a crush on me,” He whispers conspiratorially, winking at the kids and making them all giggle, and Tessa rolls her eyes.

“He flatters himself. He was just the only boy there. I didn't know any better.”

"Ouch, Virtch. Way to wound a man's ego," He puts his hand over his heart and Tessa grins at him.  

"I'm not sure anything could damage your ego, Moir." 

“Did you always think you were going to be Olympic Champions?” Another kid interrupts their banter, (flirting? Tessa's not sure what that was. They cross the line so often it's impossible to tell anymore), and they both look away from each other and back at the children.

“Not at all,” Tessa laughs, “We always approached things season by season when we were children and didn’t think much past that. I don’t think either of us considered that the Olympics might be a real possibility until Turin in 2006, and then I certainly didn’t really feel like it was possible until less than a year before Vancouver.”

“I thought about it more than Tess did, but like she said we both were always very focused on the current season and our goals for that year. I think it was good that we never got very far ahead of that. It kept us grounded.”

“Did you only figure skate, or do you play other sports?”

“I’ve always loved hockey, and I enjoy other sports as well like baseball and soccer. It’s important to do a wide variety of things both for fun, and for a mental break. If you focus too much on one thing it’s easy to get burned out and discouraged.”

“I’ve always loved doing any kind of dance. When I was little I was into all sorts of sports like softball and soccer and pretty much anything else active – I was quite the tomboy.”

"Not that you'd know that by her photoshoots these days," Scott teases, tickling her in the ribs again and making all the kids laugh as she skitters away. 

“How did you choose your costumes?”

"Tessa can answer that, since she's the fashion expert," Scott winks and Tessa rolls her eyes as she affectionately shakes her head at him. 

“We both tend to lean more on the simpler side of things. We want our costumes to be part of our characters, but to also let the skating and choreography do the talking. So Scott and I always tried to choose things that didn’t overshadow us. And he prefers simpler outfits to skate in, for sure.”

“I’m just a basic guy, I guess,” Scott quips, “She always looks wonderful so there’s no need for me to.”

Tessa blushes at the unexpected compliment, deflecting by teasing him, “I think he was scarred by the ridiculous costumes he had to wear in programs as a kid. Is that why you’re so scared of mascots? PTSD?”

“Don’t tell people that, T!” He whispers loud enough for everyone to hear and the kids laugh again.

“Do you ever think about going back to competitive skating?”

The inevitable question, the one they've been avoiding since Sochi, comes from one of the older kids and Tessa hesitates and looks over at Scott for guidance on how they want to handle it. Neither of them has ever been very good at lying. 

He nods almost imperceptibly and answers the question for both of them, “Sure, sometimes. We both miss it a lot. I think we’ll both always have that drive and desire to compete and represent Canada. Who can say what the future holds?”

Tessa sighs and relaxes when one of the boys moves on to another question, something about the Leafs and their latest season that Scott’s only too eager to answer.

It’s a bit of a loaded question for them right now, because even though they’ve decided that  _yes_ , they DO want to return and represent Canada in PyeongChang, nobody knows that yet other than Marie-France and Patrice, who have miraculously decided to accept them at Gadbois in Montreal.

They’ve both agreed to break the news to their families over the holidays this week, something that Tessa dreads and she knows Scott does too. Something tells them that neither the Virtues, nor the Moirs, are going to be overly thrilled that their kids have decided to put everything on hold and pursue skating again.

Eventually the class ends and they bid farewell to each one of the kids and their parents, waving goodbye to everyone until they're finally alone again in the arena. 

“I’m exhausted. I always forget how much work it is doing one of these classes,” She says, looking around for her skate guards and dreaming of food. Her breakfast had been pitifully small and she can feel her stomach grumbling angrily. 

Scott watches her with an inscrutable expression, still standing on the ice, “Do you think you have it in you for a little bit more?”

“I don’t know,” She checks her watch, “I’m supposed to be meeting Jordan for lunch in an hour.”

“Come on, Virtch, what’d’ya say? A quick spin around the ice for old time’s sake?” He holds his hand out and wiggles his fingers enticingly, making her chuckle. She wants to, she does, but it's also been an overwhelming morning and she needs some time to reset her boundaries before spending more time with him. 

It's a little annoying how they always seem to crumble the second he smiles at her. 

“We should probably get going. I’m not sure they want us commandeering their rink for our own purposes.”

“Come on. Nobody’s going to care if we skate around for a little bit longer. Dance with me.”

He's not going to take no for an answer, she can tell, so with a heavily exaggerated sigh (purely for his benefit, which he knows based on the way his smile gets wider), she rolls her eyes and lets him take her hand and lead her out onto the ice, alone again as they glide around the rink. Scott’s hand is warm in hers as he laces their fingers together – opting for a traditional handhold this time instead of the basic dance hold- and Tessa feels that familiar tale-tell thump in her heart as he loops her pinky finger between his index and middle fingers – something they haven’t done in a long time.

_Too long._

“Do you remember how great it was when we first started here?”

“When we were tiny and had no idea what we were doing, both on the ice and off it?”

“It was a big time of our lives and we were both scared,” Scott concedes, “Puberty’s tough enough when you’re in your own home, let alone when you're trying to navigate living in a new town all by ourselves at the same time. But still, I think we did pretty well.”

“God, I felt like such a little kid," Tessa huffs, remembering those awkward teenage years with a cringe, "Missing two teeth and no idea how to fit in with the other girls who were going to the mall and talking about boys on the weekends while I was shopping for skating costumes and the only boy I knew was you.”

“All those conversations with Suzanne spent learning how to effectively communicate and clear the air and appreciate each other," Scott adds, "She really showed us how much we need each other. That we’re in this together.”

She doesn’t miss his use of the present tense of the verb. His eyes slide over to look at her and his expression is so intense, the passion that he usually carries into a program simmering underneath, and Tessa can feel her heartbeat picking up speed. Thundering away inside her chest.

“Those definitely were… important years,” She finally agrees, the words coming out stilted and awkward and she can see in real time the way Scott absorbs her discomfort, adjusting his expression to something more playful and looking for the fastest way to make her laugh.

“Hang on. I’ve just thought of the perfect song for us to skate to,” Scott drops her hands and skates over to the stereo left behind from their lesson and plugs his phone back in.

He takes a few seconds scrolling through his music before finding the song he wants and the only warning Tessa has that something ridiculous is about to happen is the cheesy grin he shoots her direction before pressing play.

The familiar notes start blasting from the speakers and Tessa busts up laughing, shaking her head as Scott skates back over to her looking entirely too pleased with himself.

 

_My my_

_At Waterloo Napoleon did surrender_

_Oh yeah_

_And I have met my destiny in quite a similar way_

_The history book on the shelf_

_Is always repeating itself_

 

“ABBA, Scott, really? And I thought I was the one with the reputation for listening to the oldies.”

“I guess you’ve rubbed off on me, Virtch. Besides, it's  _Waterloo_ , get it?" He grins and grabs her hands again and pulls her into some sort of dance reminiscent of their Blues routine they’d done twelve years ago when they won Junior Nationals for the first time. The dance they’d practiced so many mornings in this very rink. 

Neither of them remember it very well – too many years and too many other programs floating around inside their heads – so they end up stumbling through the steps and laughing as they twirl and bounce around. Scott grins at her as he moves them through a few of their most basic lifts – throwbacks to when they were nearly the same height and something like The Goose wasn’t even on anyone’s radar as a possibility for them.

It's liberating and exhilarating and Tessa's already breathless when Scott pulls her in closer for a waltz, his hand low on her back and his forehead almost pressed against hers. She finds herself getting lost in his light brown eyes as they twirl around and around and around.

 

_Waterloo I was defeated, you won the war_

_Waterloo promise to love you for ever more_

_Waterloo couldn't escape if I wanted to_

_Waterloo knowing my fate is to be with you_

_Waterloo finally facing my Waterloo_

 

“Tess,” Scott murmurs as they slow into a small rotation in the center of the ice, barely moving while they catch their breath (they’re both in for a rude awakening when they get to Montreal and start training for real, she just knows), “We were family here. And when we move to Montreal it will be just us again. I want us to be family there, too.”

His voice is calm and earnest and his words are exactly what she’s been longing to hear. She knows she’s been at least a little in love with him ever since she was a little kid. It can ebb and flow like the tide, but it’s always there. But it doesn’t matter how much she loves and wants him – what matters is making their partnership work again so that they can succeed at Gadbois and have a shot at another Olympic games in two years.   

And Scott, underneath his goofy guy persona and fun-loving attitude, can blow hot and cold sometimes. He’s so passionate, so intense, that it scares her. If they were to try to be together and something went wrong, he can’t just skate to the other side of the rink and kick the ice to blow off steam like he does when they're at practice – it could mean the end of their partnership. For good this time.

“We’ve always been a family, Scott.” She replies gently, moving back to his side and encouraging him to follow her as they skate around the edge of the rink again. He glides alongside her, but as soon as they’re by the boards he forces her to stop so that he can look her in the eyes.

“You know what I mean. I want more. I want to  _try_.”

Tessa takes a lot of joy in trying things, that’s what her old dance teacher had said, but  _this_ thing terrifies her. There might be joy, but there could also be pain.

Physical pain she can handle, Lord knows she’s proven that time and time again, but emotional? That’s a lot more terrifying.  

Scott looks at her so directly, so full of hope and blatant affection, it’s hard to keep her heart closed off to it. To mentally continue listing all the practical reasons why this is a bad idea when all she wants is to throw her arms around him and press her lips against his and never let go.

_My my_

_I tried to hold you back, but you were stronger_

_Oh yeah_

_And now it seems my only chance is giving up the fight_

_And how could I ever refuse_

_I feel like I win when I lose_

“This could be a really bad idea, Scott,” She says quietly, trying and mostly failing not to look at him. 

“Or it could be a really good one," He replies, not giving her the chance, "One of our key words has always been ‘together,’ Tess. I want to keep it that way – on the ice, and off it.”

"But what if we decide to be together and then we break up? What happens to our partnership? Isn’t it better to keep things how they are now, which is pretty good, rather than risk everything that we have?”

“I thought you were the woman who never gives up, yet here you are giving up on us before we've even had a chance,” Scott says, taking both of her hands in his and raising them to his chest – pressing them to his heart, “Things are good right now, and they’ll get better in Montreal when we’re training and skating together every day again, but we could be  _great_. I know it in my heart.”

_Waterloo I was defeated, you won the war_

_Waterloo promise to love you for ever more_

_Waterloo couldn't escape if I wanted to_

_Waterloo knowing my fate is to be with you_

_Oh, oh Waterloo finally facing my Waterloo_

_So how could I ever refuse_

_I feel like I win when I lose_

 

"Do you really think this is a good idea, though? Trying to navigate this...  _thing..._  between us while attempting a comeback?" 

She wants to believe him, she does, but there's so much riding on this. They can't just jump into things. 

"Tess, the reason I wanted to skate competitively again was to be close to you. I've missed you, Virtch." 

"You can be close to me just like we've been in the past." 

"You mean like during Carmen and Sochi when we wanted each other so badly we fucked up everything else in the process until we imploded? No thanks. I want to do it right this time. Everything on the table and out in the open," He cups her cheeks with both hands, gently brushing some loose strands of hair out of her face, "We can make this work. We're meant to be together, I just know it." 

"Are you sure, Scott? Because if we start this, for real this time, there won't be any going back for me." 

"There's no going back for me, either. I love you, Tess. I love the girl who was the only one fast enough to keep up with me, who's so loyal she gave up the ballet school  _twice_ because we were already partners, who was patient enough here in this very arena to deal with me when I got frustrated and angry and didn't know how to handle it, who's so determined and driven and brave that she let doctors cut open her legs just for the chance to keep skating, who's willing to go on this journey with me  _again_  even though I've been a bit of an idiot lately. I love you and I want to be with you. What do  _you_ want?" 

His words sink in slowly, but when they do it's like a warm ember settling inside her heart. Warming up the places she'd thought had turned cold for good.

She wants him. She's always wanted him. 

Tessa looks up at him and thinks back to over a decade ago when they stood in this same arena and promised that no matter what happened, they were together. It seems fitting that they make that promise again in the same spot.  

"Together?" She asks, a slow smile spreading across her face as she reaches up to take one of his hands, interlocking their fingers. 

Scott beams at her before pressing his lips softly against hers, "Together." 

 

_Waterloo couldn't escape if I wanted to_

_Waterloo knowing my fate is to be with you_

_Waterloo finally facing my Waterloo_

_Waterloo knowing my fate is to be with you_

_Oh, oh Waterloo finally facing my Waterloo_

_Waterloo knowing my fate is to be with you_

 


End file.
